Unexpected Too
by startraveller776
Summary: Trip and T'Pol are just finding out what their mysterious mating bond entails when they get a visit from someone in Trip's past.
1. Blast from the Past

_**Unexpected Too**_

**By:** startraveller776  
**Rating**: T for language and some sexual situations  
**Disclaimer:** Paramount owns Star Trek and the characters therein. All other original material is the property of the owner, even though I don't make any money from this!  
**Genre:** Humor, Romance, Challenge  
**Archive:** Yes, but please ask first.  
**Spoilers:** All episodes through "Bound" with an emphasis on "Unexpected"  
**Summary**: Trip Tucker gets a surprise visit from an old "friend" and T'Pol isn't happy about it.

**A/N: **This takes place between "Bound" and "Demons" (think of it as a missing episode). In my mind, the bond between Trip and T'Pol is a fairly new thing and not yet particularly strong at this point.

Special thanks to my stalwart betas: **honeybee** & **Dinah**.

This little gem is the result of a challenge someone laid at my feet at . (And yes, I **AM** working on _Dark Echoes_ too!)

Here is the fruit of my labor. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1** — _Blast from the Past_

_**i.**_

_Now _this_ is the kind of "work" I'm talking about!_

It had started with an invitation for a neuropressure session. T'Pol had come down to Engineering and asked to speak with Trip in private. His heart gave a little jolt; he wasn't sure if this was going to be one of _those_ talks. It usually wasn't a good sign when she came into his domain to speak with him about something other than the engines.

"Commander," she began, after he'd closed the door to his small office. "Are you getting adequate rest?"

The question caught him off guard. "I guess." The truth was he was sleeping about as well as he usually did, which was hardly at all.

T'Pol studied his face so intensely that Trip wondered if maybe she was picking up something from this weird bond thing they had. "Are you certain?" she queried again.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Now that you are officially the Chief Engineer of _Enterprise_ again," she replied in a tone that expressed her disapproval of his leaving in the first place, "as the First Officer, I am obligated to ensure the health of the crew."

Trip snorted. That sounded like it was supposed to be logical enough, but he was pretty certain that was a load of convoluted baloney. "And you think I'm not taking care of myself?"

"I suspect your habit of neglecting your health remains unchanged."

"Uh-huh." He involuntarily pushed the inside of his cheek with his tongue. If Trip didn't know any better, he'd think T'Pol was trying to find an excuse to spend some quality time with him."So what are you going to do about it, Commander?"

"Perhaps if you are still experiencing difficulty sleeping, you might consider resuming neuropressure treatments."

_Bingo._

Trip sucked the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning like an idiot. Damn, but he liked _this_ T'Pol. If he'd have known she'd be pining after him like this, he'd have left _Enterprise_ a long time ago. Not that she was _pining_, exactly. Whatever this was, Trip wasn't going to argue with it.

"Hm." He pretended to think hard. "It does sound like the _logical_ thing to do."

She raised a brow. "Indeed."

Had she always been so transparent? Trip couldn't remember her being so obvious before. Maybe it was this mysterious mating bond that was making it easier to read her.

"All right then. I'll take you up on your offer."

T'Pol's eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Would 1800 in my quarters be agreeable?"

"That'd be just fine," he answered, finally letting out the smile he'd been holding back.

That was how he ended up in T'Pol's quarters, making out with his favorite Vulcan. Trip couldn't remember who started the kissing and he really didn't care. He also didn't know when they'd gone from the floor to her bed, but that was something else he wasn't inclined to figure out either. All he knew was this was heaven. There was no better way to describe it. It was a heaven that he'd been missing for far too long.

T'Pol's hands stroked his back and he felt the desire to do some serious "exploration" stir in his middle. It took all of what little rational thought he had left to keep him from ripping off her Triaxian silk pajamas. Trip didn't want to overstep his boundaries and drive her away again. But damn, he wanted her so badly—body and soul. And when her fingers began wandering beneath the waistband of his sweatpants...

_Heaven! I'm floating. Oh god, I'm floating!_

Trip reluctantly pulled back from their passionate lip lock, hoping to see in her face that she wanted the same thing he did. Her dark eyes fluttered open and returned his gaze, silently giving him the permission that he so desperately craved. His entire body was suddenly ablaze with the overpowering hunger he'd been attempting to keep at bay. He began fumbling with the buttons of her top as he leaned down to kiss her again.

_Floating! I'm floating!_

The damn buttons wouldn't budge. Just as he was about to tear her top to shreds, he felt her warm, slender hands cover his. Momentarily confused, he broke off his kiss. It took only a second for him to realize that she was helping him rather than changing her mind. The wry grin budding on his lips stopped abruptly when something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

_Oh shit! We_ are_ floating!_

There, several feet below his beautiful Vulcan, was her bed. He turned his head and saw that the ceiling was mere inches away. T'Pol stopped unbuttoning her top when she realized that Trip was distracted. Her eyes widened as she came to the same realization that he did. Before either of them could speak, Trip felt his stomach suddenly drop and he knew that the gravity was coming back online. He shoved against the nearest wall, hoping it would be enough to keep him from falling on top of her.

Trip heard the muffled _whump_ of her soft landing on the mattress just as he hit the deck, hard on his shoulder. "Sonuvabitch!" He scrambled to his feet and turned to face T'Pol. "Are you all right?"

She sat up and straightened her pajamas. "I am fine. Are you injured?"

His arm hurt like hell, but he didn't want her to pester him to go to sickbay. "I'm okay." He walked toward the comm, feeling frustrated at the interruption of what was shaping up to be one of his favorite neuropressure sessions. "I don't know what the hell that was, but I swear if Kelby—" The comm chirped to life, interrupting Trip.

"_Senior officers report to the bridge immediately."_

* * *

_**ii.**_

Captain Archer pretended not to notice that Trip and T'Pol had arrived together, both looking a little disheveled. While T'Pol was in uniform, Trip was wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants and sandals. Jon had his suspicions about the two of them, especially since Trip returned to _Enterprise_, but he wasn't sure how he wanted to handle it if those suspicions proved correct. For now, he'd decided that the best policy was "Don't Ask."

"Cap'n?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your... uh... rest, Trip," Jon said, catching the Chief Engineer's furtive glance at T'Pol, "but we seem to be having some unusual system malfunctions."

Trip grimaced and rubbed his right shoulder. "Yeah, I noticed."

"It's not just the grav plating, Trip. Some decks are reporting temperature drops. Hoshi says the ship-to-ship sensors are down..." Jon trailed off. T'Pol turned and stepped into her station, looking very much like she had an idea. "Fortunately the ambassador's deck seems to be all right... so far."

They were transporting Soval back to Earth, having finished the negotiations for the new treaty between Andor and Vulcan after their latest skirmish. Jon gave silent thanks to the universe that he didn't have a cranky ambassador breathing down his neck over this inconvenience.

"I'd better get down to engineering. We're almost done with the repairs, but maybe we missed something," Trip said as he started toward the turbolift.

"I believe I've found the problem, Captain." T'Pol stood and walked to the command center in the back of the bridge. Jon followed her, nodding to Trip and Malcolm to do the same. As they stood around the console, T'Pol brought up a schematic of the Enterprise at warp. "There is a distortion in our wake pattern." She pointed to the obvious void where there shouldn't be one.

"Son of a _bitch!_" Jon looked up to see Trip turn several shades of red.

"Xyrillians," Malcolm said. "I thought this all felt a little too familiar. Do you think it's the same ship?"

Jon sighed. "I guess we're about to find out." He stepped back to stand by his command chair. "Hoshi, open a channel," he started to say as the turbolift doors hissed open. The Captain turned to see a slightly disgruntled looking Vulcan ambassador step onto the bridge. "Belay that, Hoshi," he managed to get out before Soval opened his mouth.

"Captain Archer, I apologize for the interruption but I would appreciate an explanation as to why my quarters are barely above freezing. Is this some human prank? If so, I do not find it particularly amusing."

Jon groaned inwardly. "Ambassador, I can promise you that it was unintentional. If you'd like, you're more than welcome to stick around while we find out the cause."

The older Vulcan gave a slight nod and said nothing. Certain that the Soval had been appeased for the moment, Jon turned to Hoshi again.

"Channel open, sir," she said, "audio only."

"This is Captain Jonathan Archer," he began, feeling an overwhelming sense of deja vu, "of the Starship Enterprise. We would appreciate it if you would back off several kilometers as your presence is causing several malfunctions on our ship."

"_We are complying_," a feminine voice answered.

"Captain, they've moved off," Malcolm reported from behind Jon, "and they've turned off their stealth technology."

"I can establish a video feed now if you'd like, sir," Hoshi said.

"By all means." Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw his Chief Engineer try to sneak to the lift. "Trip, it might not be a bad idea for you to stay put. You have the most experience with them."

"Aye, Cap'n." The Commander appeared for all the universe like he wanted to crawl under the deck plating as he walked toward Jon.

"Onscreen, Hoshi."

The star field winked out, replaced by the interior of the Xyrillian ship. In the center was a petite female.

"Captain, I apologize for the disruption of your systems. While we were searching for you, we developed a problem with our teraphasic coils. I know we should have asked permission first, but we were getting close to losing all systems."

"Have you considered designing a—" Jon began, when something she had said struck him. "Wait, you were looking for us?"

She didn't answer immediately, but seemed to take them all in with her large, pale green eyes before they settled on Trip.

"Commander Tucker," she said with amusement hinting in her voice. "It's good to see you again."

"Hello, Ah'len." Trip was fidgeting. He looked like he was ready to bolt at any given second. "Good to see you too." He was smiling but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'd like for you to meet someone." Ah'len gestured off screen. Within moments a smaller Xyrillian stepped forward, about the height of Ah'len's shoulder. "This is our daughter."

Trip's smile morphed into a contorted grimace and the color drained from his face. The rest of the crew froze with gaping expressions. Jon was pretty sure he looked just as shocked as they did.

"Fascinating." Soval's voice interrupted the stunned silence. The ambassador had been so quiet that Jon had forgotten he was on the bridge.

"Oh boy," the Captain muttered under his breath.

* * *

_**iii.**_

"For the last time I did not sleep with Ah'len!"

"Of course you didn't. You merely stuck your fingers in telepathic granules and inexplicably became impregnated."

Trip stared at T'Pol. Was she joking? She _had_ to be joking. "T'Pol, be reasonable. You've known me for how many years now? Do you really think I'd lie to you about this after all this time? You _know_ I'm a professional."

"Professional like you were with Kaitaama?" T'Pol quirked a brow.

Trip rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. What good was this mating bond if he couldn't figure out whether or not she was trying to give him a good ribbing? "Really? Really, you wanna dredge all this up right now? You wanna talk about every girl I may or may not have slept with over the years?"

"Given your record, I can only surmise that the number is quite high."

What the _hell?_ Could she really be this jealous? "Dammit, T'Pol! That's not fair and you know it—"

"As much as I enjoy watching you two banter like old times," the Captain interrupted, "I don't think we're getting anywhere with this discussion."

"Cavorting with other species during first contact is typically not the best policy," Soval interjected.

Trip turned to the older Vulcan to find the Ambassador returning his gaze with a slightly amused expression. Since when had the cranky old bastard developed a sense of humor? Trip glanced back at T'Pol, hoping he would see the same amusement in her eyes. No such luck. _Her_ face was completely unreadable.

"For the record, I wasn't cavortin'," Trip said, heaving an exasperated sigh, "and I'm glad you're all gettin' a good laugh from this." How had this gone from being one of the best nights he'd had in years to one of the worst?

The four of them were crammed into the Captain's small ready room, trying to figure out what to make of the bombshell that had been dropped. Trip wasn't thrilled that Soval was now party to this mess, not after finally having gotten some hard-won approval from the Ambassador. And T'Pol? Well, there was no telling just how this little hiccup was going to affect their budding relationship. Damn bond was worthless if all it gave him was immunity from the green Orion gals and a little white space daydreaming.

_Aw hell._

Trip turned to the Captain, his eyes pleading with him to say something to make this all better. Jon looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh. Great. Just _great_. "Cap'n, that's not my daughter. Even Phlox said that all the genetic material came from Ah'len. I mean, I only carried the embryo for a few days, for cryin' out loud!"

"Even so, Trip," Jonathan sighed, "Ah'len made it pretty clear that it was important that you attend the ceremony."

"So I have to travel however many light years to their home world for this kid I don't even know?"

"Refusal could have a negative impact on Earth's future interactions with Xyrillia," the Ambassador commented casually. "There are times when it is necessary to sacrifice one's pride in order to secure productive relations with another species."

There was that tone again. Trip just knew that Soval was having a good guffaw on the inside. He was never, _ever_ going to live this down. "Please tell me that you're at least comin', Cap'n."

Jon shrugged. "Sorry, Trip. Admiral Gardner has us on a pretty tight schedule. Xyrillia is a little too far out of the way." The Captain stood. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sending T'Pol along with you."

"Undoubtedly, a chaperone would be beneficial," she replied, raising her brow again, "since you seem to easily attract the attention of alien females." There. That _had_ to be a joke.

_Right?_

"I believe I will come as well," Soval said before Trip could manage a retort. "It might be in Vulcan's best interest to learn more of these Xyrillians."

Jon smiled. "See, Trip, you won't be alone."

"Yeah, I feel better already." Trip's stomach twisted.

_How could this get any worse? _


	2. Welcome Back Tucker

_Disclaimer: See first chapter_

_Rating: PG-13_

_A/N: _Special thanks again to my betas, **honeybee** & **Dinah**!

* * *

**Chapter 2** — _Welcome Back Tucker_

_**i.**_

Malcolm stood outside Commander Tucker's quarters. He'd drawn the short straw, so to speak, and was sent to see if there were any more details to be gleaned from the engineer about his unusual away mission. It probably helped that he had Trip's confidence and the Commander was likely to reveal more to Malcolm than to Hoshi or Travis.

"_Come in_" Trip's dejected voice came over the speaker.

When the door slid open, Malcolm stepped in to see Trip stuffing clothes into his duffel bag with more force than he needed. The engineer glanced up at his guest and looked visibly relieved.

"Hey, Malcolm."

"Mind if I keep you company while you pack?"

Trip shrugged. "Have a seat."

"So, this is interesting," Malcolm began as he sat at the Commander's desk. "It's not every day when an old girlfriend shows up claiming you have a child, is it?"

Trip gave him a withering look. "Ah'len was never my girlfriend and that is not my kid."

"Are you certain? I seem to remember you being knocked up."

"Malcolm..."

The Lieutenant ignored the warning in Trip's voice. "You never did tell me how that came about. I mean, if you were never, well, _on the job_."

Trip heaved a sigh and sat on his bunk. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Malcolm grinned. "Not if I can help it."

"Let's just say there was a box of pebbles. We both stuck our fingers in it and then we could read each other's minds." Trip ran his hands through his hair. "That's it. Next thing I know I've got a baby Xyrillian growin' between my ribs."

"That's all? You stick your hands in a box of rocks and bob's your uncle?"

"Yep."

"It doesn't sound like a particularly exciting way to get pregnant."

Trip smirked. "You think?"

Malcolm was a little disappointed that he wasn't getting anything juicier. He decided to switch tactics. "What does our resident Vulcan think of all this?"

Trip's eyes were suddenly hooded. "What do you mean?"

"I wonder if she's jealous of your past escapades."

The Commander stood and returned to his packing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Malcolm knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "You aren't seriously saying you and T'Pol haven't rekindled your relationship? What about that thing with the Orions? It was odd that both of you were immune when the rest of the ship was positively bonkers."

Trip glared back at him. "We're just friends, Mal. Nothing's changed."

"I don't know, Commander. The way you two look at each other—"

"Drop it." Trip cut him off with a pointed look.

It was no use to goad the Commander further. "Well in that case, might I suggest you pack your dress uniform?" Malcolm stood and pulled the clothing from Trip's closet. He held them out to the engineer. "It's always best to be prepared."

Trip grunted his thanks and grabbed the uniform.

"I suppose I ought to let you finish your work here," Malcolm said as he made his way to the door. "And, Commander, try not to get pregnant again while you're there."

The engineer shot him a wry expression as the Lieutenant backed over the threshold. "Ha, ha, Mal. Very funny."

Malcolm gave him his widest smile. "I aim to please, sir," he said as the door slid shut.

_Bloody box of rocks, my arse._

He only wished he could be there when T'Pol met Ah'len in person. Now _that_ would be something to see, wouldn't it?

* * *

_**ii.**_

T'Pol knelt before her meditation candle, attempting to calm the conflicting emotions that stormed inside of her. Before the surprise visit from the Xyrillians, T'Pol had rediscovered a peace that she had only recently come to see had been missing while Commander Tucker was on board the _Columbia_.

_No, not Commander Tucker,_ she thought, _but Trip. __Her__ Trip_.

Or at least she had hoped. Logic dictated that she and Trip have a more in depth conversation to explore what this mating bond meant for them. Logic dictated that, before they engaged in a physical relationship, they set clear parameters regarding the joining of their _katras_. Logic had much to say on the matter of their potential future and how best to proceed. Unfortunately, logic had a baffling way of fleeing whenever she was near Trip.

Then there was the matter of that other female laying claim to him, even if only through the child. The rational side of her recognized that Trip had spoken the truth. She could not deny the faint touch of frustration, embarrassment and despair that emanated from him through their unique connection. He had never been intimate with this Ah'len; the child was not his even though he had carried it, however briefly. And yet...

And yet, T'Pol had suppressed the fact that Trip had been intimate with others in the past. Now that she had been confronted with one such female, whom many on the _Enterprise_ believed he had shared intimacies with, she was forced to accept the sobering knowledge that she had not been Trip's first. There was also the distinct possibility that, due to his human nature, T'Pol might not be his last.

She found the reminder of their different mating practices most disagreeable.

Unbidden, the memory of her recent conversation with Soval surfaced, momentarily drawing her attention away from these dark thoughts.

"_Nu'ri-veh," he said as they left the Captain's room. "Do you not think you were unnecessarily harsh with Commander Tucker?"_

_His gentle reproach was unexpected. "I don't understand."_

"_Truly?" The Ambassador stopped and faced her more fully, studying her with sharp eyes. "I have come to know the Commander to be an honorable man. Your behavior with him just now implied otherwise. Am I mistaken regarding his character?"_

_T'Pol's jaw involuntarily tightened. After a mental review, she found that Soval had been correct about her behavior. "You are not mistaken," she admitted with no small amount of shame welling up inside of her._

_He raised a brow, staring deeply into her eyes as if he might discover her thoughts. "I choose not to ask what might have provoked such a negative emotional response," he replied, "but I suggest that you remember that Commander Tucker is human. You do him a disservice when you expect him to behave as a Vulcan would: past, present or in the future to come."_

_T'Pol gave a slight nod of understanding but said nothing. There was no appropriate response to his honest censure. In silence, they began again to walk down the corridor as T'Pol pondered how deeply she had allowed herself to be affected by the Ah'len's presence._

"_Nu'ri-veh," Soval spoke again, pulling her from her reverie. "You must meditate." With those final words, they parted ways._

Her elder had been right. She had not been fair to Trip. Though he'd had past dalliances with other females, he had always been a "gentleman," as he termed it. He had never disclosed his exploits like other human males seemed to, even when goaded by his peers. She found his discretion appealing. It was very Vulcan.

Despite knowing this—knowing him to be a human of great honor—T'Pol could not entirely stifle the intense jealousy and fear that had swollen in her middle when looking into the face of Ah'len. It was jealousy that another female, _any_ other female, had once held Trip's rapture, even if it had been long ago and fleeting. The fear, on the other hand, was that his fondness for T'Pol might be just as transient.

That would not do at all.

Something inside of her whispered that his affection for her ran far deeper than she might suspect. T'Pol was not certain if that thin thread of hope came from the bond they shared or was merely the voice of her own desperate wish. It was challenging to attempt to decipher just what exactly had come from Trip and what came from the recesses of her own mind. The bond had thus far proven to have been only mildly useful, if at all. Would this always be so?

T'Pol shook such perplexing thoughts from her mind. There was only one certainty that she could depend on now. She would not continue any further intimate contact with the Commander until they had defined the boundaries of their relationship—no matter how much she yearned for his touch.

She blew out the candle before her. Meditation had been singularly unsuccessful and she knew that further effort would be futile. T'Pol hoped that the Xyrillians would provide adequate opportunity for quiet or else this trip might turn out far more eventful than they all desired.

* * *

_**iii.**_

Trip woke up groggy and felt like he'd been bowled over by a shuttlepod. _Damn, that was the strangest dream,_ he thought as he rubbed his eyes. There was something about the Xyrillians saying he had a kid. And T'Pol was pissed... or teasing him, he couldn't be certain. Soval was there too, laughing. None of it made any sense to Trip. His imagination had sure come up with a doozy this time.

He stretched his arms and legs lazily, his eyes still shut. Why did it feel like he'd been holed up in a Jeffries tube for hours? His body ached in ways that said that last night's sleep hadn't been restful at all. He really should take up T'Pol on her offer to resume their neuropressure sessions.

_Wait!_

Trip's eyes sprung open and he sat bolt upright. He was in an open room surrounded by mossy walls and large, bright red recliners. It wasn't a dream after all. No, it was one huge waking nightmare. Trip wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away again.

He felt a tingle as a hand gently pushed him back into the recliner he was on. "Don't get up too quickly," a familiar feminine voice said. "You're still adjusting to the environment."

His eyes followed the hand to its owner. Ah'len. She was sitting next to him, holding a bowl of those weird water cubes. Trip mustered a polite smile.

"Here," she said, picking up one of the clear cubes, "you are dehydrated." She held it out expectantly, waiting for him to open his mouth.

Behind her, at the opening of the alcove, Trip could see T'Pol watching them with a brow that climbed the length of her forehead. "Uh, thanks," he muttered, "but I think I can handle it myself, if you don't mind." He took the cube from Ah'len's fingers and popped it into his mouth.

"Of course." She handed him the bowl, looking a little disappointed. "When you are refreshed, perhaps you could help us repair our teraphasic coils? The trip home will take months if we don't have warp drive."

_That_ was just what he needed, months cooped up on this small ship with Ah'len, this kid that didn't belong to him—no matter what anyone said—and two Vulcans watching the whole thing. "Yeah, sure. I'd be happy to take a look." _I'm gonna fix those suckers as fast as I can_, he added silently.

Ah'len smiled at him. "I'll be in the engineering room. I'm sure you remember the way." She stood up and walked away, nodding at T'Pol as she passed the petite Vulcan.

Trip sat up and ate a few more of the water cubes. They were strange things, the way they seemed to melt as soon as they touched his tongue. Sweet too. It reminded him of the spring water he drank as a child in Florida. Someday he'd have to figure out how they made these things.

"Have you rested adequately?" T'Pol's voice interrupted his thoughts. He hadn't even heard her approach. He looked up at her, studying her face for any indication of how she felt about all of this craziness. Still nothing. And nothing from the bond too, at least not anything that he could decipher anyway.

"I'm not sayin' I could go ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, but yeah, I'm all right." His body still felt creaky from being stuck in that tiny decompression chamber with her and Soval for so long.

"Good. Trena'l says that if the warp drive is repaired, the journey to their home world will be approximately three days."

"Yeah, I'm on it." _You have no idea how on it I am._ He stood up. "It might go a little quicker if you give me a hand."

She nodded. "Perhaps I can be of assistance." Without another word, she turned to leave.

Trip felt like there was a huge, ugly elephant in the room and he couldn't stand not pointing it out. "Wait, T'Pol." She turned back to him, gazing at him expectantly. He walked up to her and spoke in a low voice. "Are we gonna talk about this?"

"This?" She canted a brow and, for the first time since this whole fiasco began, Trip could see a haunting vulnerability in her eyes.

"You know," he nearly whispered, trying to find the right words, "how this, Ah'len and this kid—hell, maybe all kinds of stuff from our pasts—affects _us_?" _Please tell me there still is an 'us'_, he prayed silently, knowing just how flighty T'Pol could be, crazy Vulcan bond or not.

She studied his face, her deep olive eyes expressing so much that Trip couldn't quite read. "Yes," she answered finally, "but not at this time." Her eyes, softened at the corners, lingered on his for a moment longer before she turned and left the room.

Trip wasn't certain if it came from the bond or not, but his gut told him that she might not be anxious to call it quits on their relationship just yet._ Well, at least that's something._ He didn't know how their discussion would turn out, but Trip had a suspicion that everything would be alright.

Now he just needed to get these engines fixed so his embarrassing Xyrillian nightmare would be closer to finally ending.


	3. Words, Words, Words

_A/N: Much gratitude for my wonderful betas, __**honeybee **__& __**Dinah**__!_

_*replies to comments at bottom*

* * *

_

**Chapter 3** — _Words, Words, Words_

_**i.**_

Together, they had taken the better part of the day getting the teraphasic coils back into fighting shape. Trip was glad that he'd asked T'Pol to help. Many times she suggested solutions that his own mind was just on the verge of working out. He couldn't deny that they made a good team. So much so that he found himself wishing he'd had her with him the first time around. Of course, they hadn't been on exactly friendly terms back then.

"That should do it," he said as he slid out from under the coils, "and I'm pretty sure we did a better job than last time."

"Yes, I believe everything should be fine now," Ah'len replied. "Thank you both for your help."

"No problem," Trip replied at the same time that T'Pol said, "You are welcome." He turned to smile at her but stopped short when he noticed how rigid the Vulcan was as she looked at Ah'len. _Uh oh._

"Well, now that's out of the way," Trip said quickly, hoping to diffuse a potentially tense situation, "I think maybe we oughtta get some grub and turn in for the night."

T'Pol raised a brow. "That would be prudent." She glanced at the Xyrillian. "Good evening, Ah'len." She nodded then walked briskly out of the engine room.

Trip threw a "'Night!" over his shoulder as he jogged a few steps to catch up to T'Pol. "Hey," he said as he kept pace with her. "You, uh, wanna have dinner together?"

She paused and turned to gaze at him. "I believe I should meditate," she answered, "but perhaps we could meet later."

He grinned. "It's a date, then."

T'Pol raised her brow, amusement plain in her eyes as she resumed her walk. Trip let her go, feeling more confident that things were still on track with her. Maybe she really had been just teasing him the other day in the captain's ready room.

"Commander Tucker." Ah'len interrupted his happy thoughts. "Do you have a moment?"

Trip turned around. "Uh, sure," he answered as he waited for her to catch up, feeling more than a little apprehensive. "What's up?"

Ah'len glanced at the ceiling. "I don't understand."

He chuckled despite his mild anxiety. "Sorry. It means 'what do you need?' Hoshi says the translator can't quite handle my special turn of phrase."

"Oh, I see." She flashed him a small smile. "Can I take you to see our daughter? She's looking forward to meeting you."

Trip's gut twisted in a knot. He knew that he couldn't avoid this, and yet he had secretly hoped that Ah'len and the Xyrillians would suddenly forget this little snag. "Why do you keep calling her 'our' daughter? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd like to meet her, but I didn't exactly contribute any genetics to her." He wanted to use this opportunity to set the record straight.

Ah'len looked back at him with a confused expression. "Of course you didn't provide any genetics. You were the vessel."

He could feel his cheeks begin to burn. "Only for a few days. Just long enough to find you and a… a new _vessel_ for her."

"Yes, and Trena'l has been a good second father."

"Trena'l? I didn't know you two were a couple." Trip looked at her with some surprise. He had a hard time picturing the ship's commander pregnant.

"A couple?"

Trip searched for the right words. "You know, like partners." At her confused expression, he tried again. "Life mates?"

Her eyes widened with understanding. "Yes, I have heard that many species practice this. Xyrillians do not have life mates. Do humans?"

"Most humans do," Trip answered, feeling a twinge of relief. Whether or not they agreed on his parentage, he was glad to know that he and Ah'len weren't considered an item in her culture.

"Do you have a life mate, Commander Tucker?"

"I'm not sure yet." Trip wasn't quite ready to get into _that_ discussion. Before Ah'len could question him further, he said, "Let's talk about the kid. You were saying that Trena'l…" The words died on his lips when he remembered that she had called Trena'l the _second _father. Just how nuts was this nightmare going to get?

"Ah'len, who is her _first_ father?" he asked, suspecting the answer, but at the same time hoping she'd say someone else's name.

"You are, of course," she replied with mirth in her voice.

Trip felt his knees wobble. He reached out for the nearest mossy wall. First father? What the hell did that mean? What exactly were they expecting from him?

"Are you well?" Ah'len asked with a voice thick with concern. "Your epidermis has become completely devoid of color."

"I, uh," he mumbled, stumbling over the words, "maybe I could use a little more rest. This is a lot to take in, right now."

"I understand. Perhaps it would be best to wait until morning." Ah'len looked him over. "Do you need help getting back to the resting quad?"

"No, I think I can get myself there just fine." Trip waved her off weakly and forced his legs to walk down the corridor, barely noticing her expression of worry as he left. Why did he always end up in these crazy situations? Why couldn't Jon or Malcolm be stuck in the middle of a mortifying spot like this for once? It felt like the universe was keen on putting Trip in the most ridiculous circumstances and then snickered as he tried to worm his way out of them.

He needed a drink. He was stuck on a ship with no alcohol and he desperately needed a drink.

_Yeah, I hear you giggling up there!_ He silently shouted at the stars. _This time you get the laughs_ and t_he bourbon_.

* * *

_**ii.**_

"Remarkable."

There was really no other appropriate word to describe the room that Soval was now in. When Trena'l had ushered the ambassador through the door, the walls had been a riot of color. It had reminded him of the phenomenon on earth known as "rainbows." The view was quite spectacular on its own, but when the Xyrillian pressed a few buttons on his remote control device, Soval's eyebrows climbed his forehead.

"Is it a good likeness?" Trena'l asked.

"It is more than adequate," the ambassador answered. "I was curious when you asked for information regarding my home world. I did not expect that this was the reason."

They were standing on high outcropping on the side of Mount Seleya. The large plateau had long been converted into an exquisite balcony. Behind them, Soval could hear soft trickling from the _mol-kom_ fountains, meant to aide all in finding the deepest quiet within. At his feet lay a circle of meditation mats and tasseled pillows, each heavily brocaded with the fine designs and rich colors that his people found pleasing. In the center there were several candles of various shapes and sizes, all glowing brightly, inviting one to kneel and find peace.

Soval stepped forward and was mildly surprised that he could not tell that it was the scenery moving more than he was, as Trena'l had explained. He walked to the edge of the balcony and placed his hand on the rail, noting again the remarkable realism of it. He turned to the Xyrillian.

"Again, this is?"

"Resequenced photons."

"I see." Soval looked out at the vista below, admiring the accuracy depicted of the Forge in the distance. He found that all the details were impeccable, including the climate. It was dry and warm, though he knew that a human like Commander Tucker might describe the temperature as hot. "Tell me, how is it that you choose to use so much valuable energy for such lavish recreational facilities?"

Trena'l cocked his head to the side. "I suppose that doesn't appear logical. It is logic that guides your culture, correct?"

"Yes."

"Recreation is a large part of Xyrillian culture. As many of our deep space missions can take us away from home for very long periods of time, we found that the morale of the crew was better when they had a place to relax. It also helps with home sickness."

"Your argument has some merit," Soval replied. "Vulcans do not need entertainment. In this particular instance, however, I do find myself grateful that such facilities are available."

Trena'l seemed pleased at the implied compliment. "I hope this will work for your needs. I apologize that we do not have more isolated quarters for you and the others. Xyrillians are an open people. Privacy is not something we feel much need for."

Soval nodded his understanding, though, in truth, he couldn't quite comprehend an utterly open society. It was difficult to see how one could get adequate repose when constantly surrounded by others. The Xyrillians, on the other hand, seemed to thrive with their highly social lifestyle. Soval had once thought humans to be overly gregarious, but they were not nearly as communal as Trena'l and his crew.

Fascinating.

"This room will be yours to use at your discretion for the voyage." Trena'l held out the remote and pointed to one of the buttons. "I have programmed this place for meditation. You only need to press here." He pointed to another button. "This should bring up a fair representation of a small Vulcan homestead with several rooms, for sleeping purposes. Will Commander Tucker be joining you in using this room for quarters as well? When he was here last he did not seem to have trouble sharing our resting quad with us."

"I cannot say," Soval replied, returning his gaze back to the burning sands of the Forge. The ambassador suspected that the engineer might prefer to stay with him and T'Pol, considering the clear discomfort he felt about the entire situation. After reviewing the logs from _Enterprise_'s first encounter with the Xyrillians, Soval had determined that the commander had made an innocent mistake. Of course, the ambassador believed that the crew of _Enterprise_ _should_ have been given more in-depth training with regards to making first contact with a new species, but there was no logic in judging Commander Tucker's actions when he had lacked a better understanding. Admiral Forrest had been fond of telling Soval that humans liked "learning things the hard way" when the ambassador had pointed out the carelessness of their space exploration. Soval found the notion to be both truthful and utterly irrational.

In the midst of these thoughts, Soval recalled from the logs that, in a conversation with Captain Archer, Trena'l had mentioned the Xyrillians had "a good deal of experience with alien visitors." This statement begged the question of their own behavior, particularly Ah'len's, with the commander. It was the question that Soval believed could not go unasked.

He turned back to Trena'l. "Perhaps, after I have meditated, you might join me in a discussion about Xyrillian protocols for first contact. Considering what transpired with the humans, I believe some explanation is required."

The Xyrillian tilted his head again. "Of course. If there is nothing else you need?"

Soval gave him a nod. "I believe that is all. You may leave."

Trena'l pressed another button on the remote and a door appeared to the side, looking completely out of place in the monastery. He handed the device to the ambassador and stepped out. T'Pol appeared in the doorway before it closed, and she stepped through with widened eyes as she took in the surroundings. Once she crossed the threshold, the door slid closed and disappeared.

"Resequenced photons," Soval explained when she raised a questioning brow. "It is a holographic depiction."

T'Pol joined him on the balcony and gingerly touched the rail. "The likeness is. . . agreeable."

"Indeed." Soval watched her for a moment as she studied the view. There was an unmistakable tension that radiated from her. He knew that, like himself, T'Pol had not always been adept at her emotional control, but he noticed that the strain had grown since her time in the Expanse. During his recent time on board the_ Enterprise_, it had not escaped his attention that much of her struggle seemed to be amplified when Commander Tucker was involved, especially in light of the recent return of the Xyrillians. Soval had little doubt that the two shared a connection, the depth of which remained unknown to him.

It was highly illogical.

Given Soval's years of experience in dealing with humans, he understood that sometimes the only path to logic with them was to be illogical. The ambassador raised a rueful brow at this musing. He realized that the Father of Logic might not agree with this conclusion, but then Surak had never served as ambassador to this irrational species for over thirty years, had he?

"Perhaps we should meditate," he said, drawing T'Pol's attention.

"Yes," she agreed.

As they knelt across from each other, Soval hoped that his influence might help the younger Vulcan gain a greater stability as she navigated her emotions regarding the Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_.

* * *

_**iii.**_

_Trip was in distress. Even if T'Pol had not seen the haggard look on his face when he had invaded her white space yet again, she could not deny the growing anxiety that emanated from him as he sat across from her. To his credit, he was attempting to suppress these overwhelming emotions as he sat across from her._

"_So all this is real, right?" he asked as he took a cursory glance around._

"_I believe so."_

"_Huh. How 'bout that?" He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "How does this happen anyway?"_

_She raised a brow. "I am not certain."_

"_You're meditatin' right now?"_

"_Yes."_

"_I suppose that's one part of the equation." He leaned back on his hands. "I dunno what I'm doin' on my side to end up here. I _am_ sorry for the intrusion, though. I know how important meditation is for ya."_

_T'Pol blinked at the apology. Trip had never been anything but difficult when he had appeared in her white space before. His recognition of the impact of his presence in her mind was pleasing. And now that he was being agreeable, T'Pol discovered that having him there was significantly less invasive._

"_I don't know how to leave without gettin' into a fight with you." Trip chuckled. "I mean, it seems like we just barely get into the thick of it when I snap back to reality. Got any ideas on how to give me the boot without it endin' with both of us in a pissy mood? I don't wanna interrupt your quiet time."_

_It was a reasonable question, and one they would need to explore as they tested the bond they shared. In this moment, however, T'Pol believed that Trip's overpowering disquiet was a more pressing concern._

"_You are upset," she stated. "Perhaps it would help if you talk about it. I am 'all ears.'"_

_Trip smiled again and this time it crinkled the corners of his eyes. An unusual warmth swelled in her middle and T'Pol found herself again questioning whether the pleasure came from her or Trip. It was certainly not disagreeable._

"_Cap'n's right," he said. "You are pickin' up some of my habits."_

"_Perhaps," she replied. "And perhaps you will acquire some of my 'habits.'"_

_Trip laughed. The sound was odd in her normally serene space, but T'Pol found it illogically peaceful._

"_Now this isn't half bad," he said when his amusement subsided. "I could almost forget what's goin' on out there. D'ya think we can just hang in this white room for the rest of the trip?" He sat up again and hugged his knees._

"_It might not go unnoticed."_

_He was still smiling, but stress tightened around his eyes again. "Yeah, I guess not." He sighed. "I just keep wonderin' where the end of it is. I mean, this whole thing with the Xyrillians. Just when I think it can't get worse, it does."_

"_Worse?" The comment had piqued T'Pol's interest, her concern growing exponentially._

_Trip frowned at her. "Y'know, I was never upset with Ah'len about the... pregnancy." He said the last word as if it tasted foul crossing his tongue. "It was an accident and it wasn't like we were... well, you know. I'd almost forgotten the whole thing until the day she showed up again."_

_T'Pol remained quiet as she waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. She preferred not to remember how judgmental she had been of him when the incident had happened. At that point, she had only known the Commander for a short time, certainly not long enough to have accurately judged his character. She regretted now that she had believed the worst of him._

"_I'm not gonna lie. I like kids well enough, but I only carried that one for a couple of days." He looked away. "I don't feel like a dad and now Ah'len tells me I'm this kid's 'first father,' whatever the hell that means. This all out of the blue years later." He sighed again. "Now I'm wonderin' just what other kind of surprises they've got in store for me. Am I gonna end up having to take care of her? It woulda been nice if they gave me a guidebook so I'd know what to expect." He turned back to her with a guarded expression. "And I'm a little worried about how all these new surprises affect you an' me."_

_If T'Pol could have allowed it, a cold fury might have escaped the surface of her calm upon hearing the depth of Trip's predicament. It was unacceptable that the Xyrillians had not explained what exactly they expected of him. It was unacceptable that they had required anything from him at all after the incident. It was unacceptable that Ah'len spoke to Trip so comfortably, without apology for her behavior._

"_Unacceptable." The word slipped from her lips as her understanding became clearer. She had been too lost in her own fear and jealousy before to see the magnitude of what Trip was experiencing._

"_What do you mean?" he asked. She glanced at him and saw confusion and hurt. T'Pol realized that he might have taken her comment to be in reference to their relationship._

"_I am not speaking of you—of _us_," she clarified. "I must go."_

_Understanding dawned on his face. "No, wait!" Those were the only words she heard from him before she brought them both back to reality._

Her eyes flew open. She knew that Trip was too consumed by the stress of the situation to see that he needed to seek clarification from the Xyrillians as to what they considered his responsibility for the child. As his friend, she would ask the questions that he was too hesitant to pose. As his friend, she would find a way to help Ah'len understand more clearly the error of judgment she made years ago and continued to make now.

She pressed the button on the remote to make the door appear. Soval's voice stopped her as she walked across the room. "Where are you going, T'Pol?"

"I am going to speak with Ah'len," she answered honestly.

He peered at her with an unreadable face. "Are you certain it is the right thing to do?"

T'Pol was hardly ever certain of anything when it came to Charles Tucker III. "I believe so."

The ambassador gave her a slight nod and turned his attention back to the burning candles. She took that as his acceptance and stepped through the door, intent on making at least a small part of this experience right for Trip.

_**~TBC~  
**_

_**Replies:**_

I had no idea what I was undertaking when I started this fic. I was given this challenge by Distracted (with an addition by Rigel Kent) at TriSilk. And it's had mixed reception over there. Let me state where I'm coming from as a writer and if there are individual questions still left, I will respond to those.

I've decided to stay 100% with canon here. Of course, there is my personal interpretation of what I saw in the episodes this fic is affected by. In "Unexpected," what I see from Trip is embarrassment beyond belief, but no trauma – he's quite friendly with Ah'len when they meet up again. Now, sure, we can definitely blame the writers for that. I have chosen, in order to keep it in line with what was onscreen, to see the event as an innocent mistake on Trip's part. I have chosen to see much the same on Ah'len's side. Since I do not want to spoil the rest of the story, I will say that Xyrillian culture (which yes, I totally made up!) will explain a lot of how something like that happened.

Consider this as a fic about how transposing one's personal belief system in interpreting another, extremely foreign culture can have interesting and frustration consequences. You are only getting the POV of a human and two Vulcans. Anything that Ah'len and Trena'l say or do, you are reading through the eyes and ears of one of those three (Trip, T'Pol or Soval) and, therefore, you are also getting the character's colored view of the experience. I honestly didn't realize just how strong those character POV's were coloring the dialogue and intentions of the Xyrillians until I posted this story. I suppose that it is because I can see the whole picture as the author.

I am completely comfortable with the notion of "agreeing to disagree" which might have to happen over certain points of this fic. I do, however, appreciate the reviews! :)

_And a couple individual replies:_

**BnB:** You are right. It wouldn't have been funny if it had been T'Pol or Hoshi in the same position. Obviously I have come to see this as a more serious story to address – or at least I hope it's obvious. I also hope that you'll stick with the story to the end. Ah'len is not as nefarious as she appears, I promise! (Though this chapter does little to help with that, doesn't it? LOL)

**Zero Credibility:** I can see where you are coming from. When I first started, this was going to be a comedy, which was the reason for the continued teasing. It wasn't until I wrote T'Pol's scene in the second chapter that I realized that it wasn't going to be a comedy anymore. And I'm guessing this chapter will make you no less sympathetic toward Ah'len. But if you stick it out, I hope that by the end you won't hate her so much, nor the Xyrillians.

**Everyone else:** Thanks for coming along for the ride!

~star


	4. We Need to Work on Our Communication

_Disclaimer: See the first chapter  
__A/N: Take it or leave it. If ya'll don't mind, I'd like to get back to the _fun _part now. ;-)_

_Thanks again to my betas: __**honeybee**__ & __**Dinah**__!_

* * *

**Chapter 4 — **_We Need to Work on Our Communication_

_**i.**_

Trip ran through the ship to get to the holo-projection room, tossing out apologies as he nearly knocked over a few Xyrillians in his path. He wanted to get to T'Pol before she could do anything rash. In the back of his mind, a niggling thought found it humorous to put both "T'Pol" and "rash" in the same sentence. He was too worried to laugh, though. She had not been happy at the end of their encounter—not at all. In the white space, T'Pol's displeasure had been practically screaming at him. It was only in the seconds before she closed the connection that he realized that the negative emotion was not directed him but at Ah'len instead.

"T'Pol!" he shouted as he burst through the door. It sounded far too loud in the tranquil surroundings. One quick glance told him that she wasn't in the room. Soval was the only occupant, sitting cross-legged on a pile of cushions. He stared back at Trip with a curious expression. "Uh, sorry to interrupt your meditation, Ambassador." Trip ducked his head and started backing out of the room.

"It is of no consequence." Soval waved a dismissive hand. "Perhaps, you might join me."

Trip felt torn. He was concerned that T'Pol might be about to ignite an interstellar war. On the other hand, no one said "no" to Ambassador Soval—not without incurring his scathing disapproval. Trip couldn't decide which was worse: a cranky Soval or T'Pol exchanging heated words with Ah'len.

"Your concern is evident, Commander. Do you truly think so little of T'Pol?"

The question was like a slap in the face. "What do you mean?"

Soval gestured to a group of meditation pillows. "Please, sit." It was not a request.

Trip hesitated, trying to choose between the lesser of the two evils. With some dismay, he realized that T'Pol probably had already reached Ah'len by now. Damage control was all that he could do at this point. He stepped all the way into the room and plopped down across from the ambassador.

Soval gave a slight nod of approval. "Despite being too heavily influenced by your people, T'Pol is still Vulcan. I do not believe she would be inclined to engage in a… feline altercation."

Trip bit back an involuntary grin. "A cat fight, Ambassador. It's called a cat fight."

Soval raised a brow. "Human idioms will always be a source of obfuscation, I believe." He let out a small sigh. "The point remains, however, that T'Pol would not act as a human female might in this situation."

The ambassador was right, of course, but then Trip had seen T'Pol lose her temper before during that dark time in the Expanse. "I guess so." Trip chewed the inside of his cheek. "I'd still like to be there, though."

"An unsurprising but useless desire. Your presence would only serve to complicate matters," the older Vulcan said with an indecipherable look.

"All due respect, Ambassador, but how would you know?" Trip felt like he was getting schooled when he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I am Vulcan." Soval tilted his head to one side. "If I may be blunt, Commander, how would you define your relationship with T'Pol?"

_Whoa._ That was totally unexpected. "I, uh… well, we're friends. Good friends."

"Indeed." Soval eyes seemed to bore right into Trip and the engineer squirmed a little. "Is that all?"

Trip blew out a puff of air. "Maybe not all, no. But I'm not exactly sure yet what we are beyond that." He found himself thinking of ways to get out of this conversation. Watching T'Pol tell off Ah'len would be far less uncomfortable than being the subject of Soval's scrutiny.

"I sense much the same uncertainty from T'Pol. For that reason, I believe your presence would be more disruptive than helpful to her," the Vulcan explained and then added as an afterthought, "in this case."

"Wait," Trip said, frowning with confusion, "are you sayin' that my bein' there would… fluster her?"

"Yes, that is what I am expressing, Commander. T'Pol is loyal to you as a _friend_, and feels obligated to stand in your favor when you are so clearly having difficulty." Soval's tone said Trip should have guessed this much already. "Alone, she can be convinced that this is the sole reason for her choice to act on your behalf. Were you to join her, however, she would be forced to question whether her motives were as altruistic as she would prefer to believe." The ambassador pressed his fingers together. "Uncertainty and logic do not often coexist peacefully."

Trip's head was spinning, trying to make sense of Soval's words. Was the ambassador implying that Trip's presence would inflame the confrontation between the two alien females? Or that it would upset T'Pol? He rubbed his hand across his eyes. Why did Vulcans have to be so damn cryptic all the time?

"So… we wait?"

Soval inclined his head. "We wait, Commander."

"Okay, then." Trip leaned back on his hands, unsure of what else to say.

Soval studied him for a few quiet moments. "Perhaps, in the interim, you might share with me your initial experience with these Xyrillians."

Trip ground his teeth. Maybe he should go find T'Pol after all.

* * *

_**ii.**_

"You will explain your behavior," T'Pol said without preamble after Ah'len had led them to an enclosed conference room. It was one of the very few places on the ship that afforded any reasonable privacy.

"My behavior? I don't understand." Ah'len seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Your behavior with regard to Commander Tucker."

The Xyrillian blinked back at her, still visibly confounded.

T'Pol suppressed a sigh. "Perhaps, we should start from the beginning." She clasped her hands behind her back, considering how she might form a question that the other female would understand. "Did you explain to Commander Tucker that you were engaging in an intimate, procreative activity before encouraging him to place his hands in the container of telepathic granules?"

Ah'len's eyes widened. "No, I did not."

"Is there no restriction among your species regarding non-consensual sexual intimacy?" T'Pol felt indignation on Trip's behalf pressing against her cool logic.

"I don't believe I understand you, Commander T'Pol. You speak as if sexual intimacy and procreative intimacy are the same."

T'Pol canted a bow. "They are not?"

"Not for Xyrillians, no." Ah'len shook her head.

"How is this possible? Vulcans have never discovered a species where sexual activity was not also a function of reproduction. The very definition of sexual intercourse precludes the prospect of the two being separate."

"If I asked you to explain why Vulcans or even humans, for that matter, evolved to use 'sexual intercourse' as a method of reproduction, could you do so?" When T'Pol opened her mouth, Ah'len raised a hand. "Not how it happened, but _why_, Commander."

"There are several theories on that subject," T'Pol answered.

"But nothing definitive, correct?" Ah'len took a seat at the long table. "I am an engineer. I can talk about the mechanics of the teraphasic coils and about warp theory. When it comes to biology, I know enough to understand how I function, but nothing beyond that. How it works is a given to me that I accept without question. I cannot explain to your liking why or how we evolved this way."

T'Pol knew that there were many Vulcans and humans alike who did not wish to study in great detail about their physiology. It was possible that Ah'len was as disinterested in her personal biology. T'Pol would have to consult with another Xyrillian who was more knowledgeable. It was a task for another time. She had come to address the wrongs committed against her… friend.

"My question regarding your behavior still stands, regardless of your unique reproductive practices," T'Pol said. "Even if the act was not sexual according to your standards, you still failed to give adequate warning or explanation to Commander Tucker."

Ah'len frowned. "I had assumed that, since Xyrillians have played the game with other species with no complication in the past, it would be harmless fun with the commander as well. I was mistaken."

"Obviously," T'Pol replied coolly. "Even now, your behavior towards him exhibits no sign of regret. Do you feel no guilt?"

Ah'len's eyes widened. "Of course, I am very sorry for what happened! But Commander Tucker did not seem particularly upset. Have I misjudged him?"

"No, you haven't." A familiar male voice caused them both to turn toward the door. Trip stepped over the threshold and gave T'Pol an apologetic smile before turning to Ah'len. "Maybe I oughtta set the record straight once an' for all. Gettin'… pregnant is not exactly my favorite memory, but I was naive back then. I was a willin' participant too. I never thought you did it on purpose, Ah'len, and I'm not angry. Embarrassed for sure, but not angry." He sat down at the table and gestured for T'Pol to do the same. "The apology was nice, though. Thank you."

Ah'len gave a nod. "I'm grateful that you are all right."

"Indeed." T'Pol took a seat, wondering at Trip's sudden initiative.

"Well, I guess that leaves us with the next important subject I've been avoidin'," he said, crossing his arms. "What is it that you people want from me?"

* * *

_**iii.**_

Having answered what seemed like a million questions about his first encounter with the Xyrillians, Trip couldn't wait any longer. Soval had been intent on excising every tiny detail of his experience and Trip would rather avoid reliving it all. He had politely excused himself and exited the room, intending to hang out in the resting quad until T'Pol finished her conversation with Ah'len. His feet had other ideas, however.

Trip wasn't sure how he'd found the two women in the first place. He had wandered the ship aimlessly and was surprised when he stopped in front of a windowed door. Inside the room he could see T'Pol standing rigidly, looking down at Ah'len with understated but intense disapproval on her face. It may not have been a cat fight going down in the room, but it was as close as Trip knew that T'Pol could get as a Vulcan. He felt a little guilty that she had felt it necessary to stick up for him.

_Man up, Trip Tucker._

He had opened the door just in time to hear the last of T'Pol's cold censure to Ah'len. Despite Soval's admonition, Trip was glad that he intervened after all. Now he sat at the table waiting for Ah'len to answer his question.

"We require just what we've asked: that you attend the naming ceremony for the child," she said.

"Namin' ceremony? She hasn't had a name this whole time?"

Ah'len smiled. "She hasn't been given her name of heritage yet, no. But we call her Sah'nelen. It means 'little wonder' in our language. It is a name of affection."

"Huh. Like a pet name?" Trip grinned a little. The name was fitting considering the circumstances of her conception.

"You call Commander Tucker Sah'nelen's 'first father'," T'Pol interjected. "What does this mean?"

Ah'len turned to the Vulcan. "It means that he was the one to give her life." She sounded surprised that they didn't instantly understand.

Trip groaned inwardly. They were going to be talking in circles all night if they kept up like this. "Listen, Ah'len, it's obvious that our cultures are a lot more different than we first thought. So, you're gonna have to explain things as if none of it makes sense to me or T'Pol. Because, honestly, it doesn't." He glanced at T'Pol, feeling the tension from her lessening. _Was that the bond_, he wondered briefly before turning his attention back to Ah'len. "You see, for my people, bein' a father is a big responsibility. It means that a man is expected to provide for and care for his child. I'm pretty sure it's the same for Vulcans too."

T'Pol nodded. "It is."

"Are your children raised only by those who gave them life?" There was wonder in Ah'len's tone.

"With a few exceptions, yes, that's generally the case," Trip answered.

"Fascinating. I can see why you've been so unsettled, Commander." Ah'len cocked her head. "Our children are raised by the community. We all take responsibility for a child's development. Not just the physical needs, but emotional as well. Our offspring are children of Xyrillia, not to be claimed by only one person or two." She reached a tentative hand toward Trip. "Did you think that we were asking you to care for Sah'nelen, Commander Tucker?"

He made no move to take her hand—especially when he felt T'Pol stiffen again. "Please, it's Trip. And yeah, I kinda did."

Ah'len raised her head and made a soft trilling noise that Trip thought might be laughter. "No, we never expected you to care for her, Comman—Trip. We've only come now because, for us, the naming ceremony is a very sacred and joyful occasion. Offspring are a precious gift to us, and it is a cause for celebration when one is ready to fully enter into our society. We only wished to share this joy with you—for without you, Sah'nelen would not exist."

Tense muscles in Trip's body began relaxing. "So… you just wanted me to come and celebrate. That's all?"

"That is all." She grinned. "I am sorry that you believed we required more than that. This has been an enlightening experience, learning about the differences between our peoples."

"Yeah, for us too." Trip felt lighter now and couldn't resist returning her smile.

"Do you have other questions?" Ah'len asked.

"Just celebratin', right?"

"Correct."

Trip turned to T'Pol. "You got any more questions?"

"None that Ah'len can adequately answer," she replied. Trip's smile dropped. What did that mean?

"I'm glad that I was able to clarify things for you." Ah'len stood. "I have to check on the engines before retiring for the evening, if there is nothing else."

Trip shook his head and closed the door after she left the room. He turned and found T'Pol standing close behind him. With overwhelming stress no longer demanding his attention, Trip was again able to more fully appreciate the petite Vulcan's beauty. For a moment, he was tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly as thanks for helping him navigate this crazy situation. He knew, though, she wouldn't take kindly to such an open display of affection—not with that large window in the door. He wordlessly cursed the Xyrillians and their lack of need for privacy.

Instead he looked down at her with affection "What was that last little comment about?"

"Ah'len was unable to explain Xyrillian biology," T'Pol replied with a raised brow.

Trip chuckled. She was ever the scientist. "Gotcha."

"Perhaps, we should also retire," she said but made no move to exit.

"Before we go, I just wanted to say thanks." Trip suddenly wasn't in any hurry to leave the room. This was probably the only quiet moment they would share on the entire trip. "You stood up for me when I wasn't able to. I really appreciate that."

She looked up at him and Trip felt warmth and affection radiating from her. "I found the outcome of our discussion with Ah'len to be agreeable."

That inspired another laugh from Trip. "Yeah, me too, darlin'. Me too." He glanced at the door and saw no one outside the window. Acting on impulse, he took T'Pol's hand and pulled her to the wall. Before she could object, he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. It was like touching home base, relief flooding over him. When he pulled back and looked into her dark olive eyes, Trip almost blurted out exactly how he felt about her.

_Not yet. Soon, but not yet._

"I hope that was agreeable too," he said with a nervous flutter in his chest.

Amusement danced in T'Pol's eyes. "It was."

"Guess we'd better head on out." Trip sighed. "Do you mind if I make my quarters in the holo-room too? Sharing a room with a bunch of Xyrillians isn't as excitin' to me as it was the first time."

"I'm sure that you can be accommodated."

"Thanks." He raised an arm toward the door. "Ladies first."

The comment earned him a brow raised in amusement before T'Pol turned and left the room. He followed after her, enjoying the silence of the universe. _Who's giggling now? _Trip's smile stretched upward.

Everything was working in his favor again.

**~TBC~**


	5. If You Only Knew

_Disclaimer: See first chapter  
__Rating: PG (not even a curse word this time!)_

_A/N: As always, thank you __**Honeybee**__ & __**Dinah**__ for helping make this a far better tale than I could on my own!

* * *

_

**Chapter 5**—_If You Only Knew_

_**i.**_

When Ah'len had introduced Trip to Sah'nelen, he'd been expecting a toddler. It had only been four years since her conception. He was greeted, instead, with a child who was developmentally similar to an eight year old human. Sah'nelen was a miniature version of Ah'len which, Trip figured, should have been no surprise.

He squatted down in front of the young Xyrillian and held up his hand. "Hi," he said, "I'm Trip. I'm your, uh, First Father."

Her tiny mouth turned up in a smile. "Hello. I'm Sah'nelen. Your dermal plating is missing."

Trip chuckled. "My people don't have 'em."

"Your people are strange."

He barked another laugh. "I'm sure that we seem that way to you, but to us, it's normal."

Sah'nelen cocked her head to one side, considering his words. "Will you teach me an Earth game, First Father?"

Trip looked up at Ah'len, who replied, "It is how our young learn."

He nodded. "Ours too." Turning back to Sah'nelen, he said, "Call me Trip, darlin'. If we can get someone to help me program the holo-room, I'd be glad to."

Sah'nelen glanced at her mother. "Can we?"

"Of course," answered Ah'len.

A half hour later, Trip was teaching Sah'nelen the subtle intricacies of a game of Jacks, and he was pretty sure he saw her pick up an extra jack after the ball's second bounce. "Hey, I saw that!" he exclaimed. "That's cheating!"

Sah'nelen looked back at him, her large green eyes widening innocently. He laughed and scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around. She let out a high trilling sound that he had come to know as her giggle. Trip found it kind of neat how, despite major cultural and biological differences, the wonder and naivety of children was universal across the species. Sah'nelen reminded him of his nephew.

"Will you show me your home?" she asked when Trip set her back down.

A twinge of sadness tightened his chest. "My home doesn't exist anymore," he answered honestly.

"What happened?"

Trip sighed. "There was a… a misunderstandin'." He lifted his eyes to the false sky, trying to find the right way to explain the horror of what the misguided Xindi had done. "Some folks were told that my people were goin' to, uh, hurt them. So they decided to hurt us first."

"_Were_ you going to hurt them?"

Trip shook his head. "We'd never heard of 'em before they attacked our world."

Sah'nelen put her hand in his, and a strange but pleasant charge passed between them. "I'm sorry that you have no home, Trip."

He found himself chuckling, in spite of the ache. "S'okay. I live on the _Enterprise_ now."

She looked away for a moment, then abruptly turned back to him as if remembering something. "First Mother said that your captain gave us the specifications for your home. He believed you would want to see it again."

"Really?" Jon's thoughtfulness stunned Trip. To see his home again—unmarred by the Xindi's weapon—would be… He didn't know what it would be like, and thinking about it made his heart pound a little harder.

"Can we see it, Trip?"

Looking down at the pleading face of Sah'nelen, Trip knew he could not deny her request. He held up the remote control. "I don't know how to bring up the program."

She took it from him and pressed a combination of buttons. The nondescript park they had been playing in was suddenly replaced by a long, white beach and the rhythmic boom of ocean waves. A faint breeze ruffled his hair as he reached down and raked his fingers through the sand. It was so real that it nearly took his breath away.

"Your home was very pretty," Sah'nelen said.

"Yes, it was." Trip inhaled, enjoying the fresh scent of the sea air, as he sat down in the sand.

Sah'nelen joined him, studying his features with a concerned expression. "Do you require medical intervention?"

He blinked, confused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

She touched his face with her electric fingers. "Fluids are leaking from your eyes."

Trip brought his hand to his face and was surprised to find it wet. He smiled. "No, I'm all right. This is how humans express sadness."

"I did not mean to make you sad, Trip. Do you want to visit another place?"

"This is just fine, Sah'nelen." He patted her small arm. "I'm not really upset." He took another deep breath, and blew it out in a sigh. "Do you wanna go for a swim?"

She tilted her head. "Swim? What is that?"

Trip smiled and shook his head. Were humans the only species that played in the water? "You know, take a dip in the ocean?" He pointed to the rolling sea.

"My people do not… swim."

"Your people are strange." He winked.

She lifted her head and trilled in mirth. In this moment, Trip was very glad that the Xyrillians had showed up again, despite the initial discomfort. He wouldn't have missed meeting this little one for all the bourbon in the universe.

"Let's make a sandcastle instead," he suggested as he removed his boots and socks, feeling the sand between his toes. Another swell of grief washed over him as he remembered countless childhood summers spent with his family on this shore, playing with Lizzie and Bert. Tears didn't fall this time, though. Trip knew that Lizzie would have wanted him to share these memories with Sah'nelen.

He started digging, making a large pile and patting the damp sand. Sah'nelen's hands joined his and soon they were carving turrets and windows in to the large mound. As they worked, Trip shared stories from his youth, and she told him what life was like for a growing Xyrillian. Sah'nelen struggled with the human concept of family just as he had trouble imagining being raised by every adult of his species. When they had finished their surprisingly intricate castle, Trip whistled in admiration. It turned out that Sah'nelen was quite the talented sculptor.

"Now that's somethin' else. Better than anything I've ever done," he said with a grin.

Sah'nelen beamed at him. "Thank you."

The door suddenly appeared, and T'Pol stepped through it, giving the tropical surroundings a cursory study. Trip waved her over.

"Hello," Sah'nelen said, raising her hand in an imitation of Trip's greeting when T'Pol approached them. "We are making a structure out of sand."

T'Pol surveyed their work and nodded her approval. "It is well constructed. You must be Sah'nelen."

"I am. Who are you?"

Trip smiled at the Sah'nelen's openness. "This is Commander T'Pol," he said, introducing the Vulcan. "She is my…" He broke off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Best friend? Girlfriend? Lover? "We work together on _Enterprise_."

T'Pol raised her brow briefly at Trip. "Indeed."

Sah'nelen swiveled her head back and forth as she looked at the two adults. "You are not like him," she concluded, addressing T'Pol.

The commander looked down at her. "You are quite perceptive. I am not human like Commander Tucker. I am Vulcan."

Sah'nelen stared at T'Pol. "Your face does not move as much as his does—especially your mouth."

T'Pol canted her brow again. "Vulcans do not express emotions."

"Your people have no feelings?" The young Xyrillian's green eyes widened with shock.

Trip coughed, trying to choke back a laugh. He knelt down, bringing himself level with Sah'nelen. "Sweetheart, Vulcans _do_ have emotions but they believe that logic is more important, so they don't usually express or act on those feelings."

T'Pol gave a nod when Sah'nelen looked up at her. "Commander Tucker's description of my species is moderately accurate."

The Xyrillian turned back to Trip and lowered her voice. "Her people are stranger than yours."

Trip could not hold back his amusement any longer. He fell over, guffawing when T'Pol gave him an utterly perplexed expression. Sah'nelen added her own strange giggle to his laughter. It was several moments before the two of them were calm again.

"What do you want to do next, darlin'?" Trip asked Sah'nelen.

"Do you play other games in this place?"

"Lots," he replied, thinking of several of his childhood favorites. "What we need now is a Frisbee."

* * *

_**ii.**_

T'Pol watched Trip and Sah'nelen play together for the better part of an hour. The engineer had invited her to join them in each new game, and she repeatedly turned him down. She was content to sit on the blanket that they had acquired for her and observe their interaction with one another. She found the setting pleasing and serene. Trip's home—or as it had once been—was very inviting. T'Pol regretted that she had not taken the opportunity to visit Florida when she lived on Earth.

Trip's laughter drew her attention, and she watched as the blond engineer raced down the shore with Sah'nelen. At the end, he picked up the diminutive child and spun her around, his face radiating open joy. Pride and pleasure swelled within her bosom at seeing Trip this way. He would make an exceptional father one day. T'Pol allowed her mind to consider what it would be like to share offspring with him. Would he be the same with a half-Vulcan, half-human child? It was illogical to indulge in such fantasies, but T'Pol was disinterested in logic at the moment.

"I think I wore her out," Trip said as he dropped down next to T'Pol on the blanket.

"I am not worn out!" Sah'nelen exclaimed indignantly.

Trip grinned. "Oh, right." He leaned closer to T'Pol and winked. "She wore me out."

Sah'nelen giggled. "I'm hungry and it is nearly time for my rest cycle. Can we play more games tomorrow, Trip?"

"I'd love to, darlin'," he answered.

The young Xyrillian turned to T'Pol. "Are there games on your world?"

T'Pol nodded. "Vulcan children play games but they are not like Commander Tucker's."

"Will you show me some?"

"I will."

Sah'nelen gave T'Pol a smile and picked up the remote, exposing the door. "It was nice to meet you, T'Pol." She gave Trip a hug. "Thank you for the games. I liked them."

"Anytime, sweetheart." Trip's eyes followed her as she left the room.

Neither T'Pol nor Trip spoke for a period of time. T'Pol enjoyed watching the rise and fall of the tide, finding it nearly as meditative as her flickering candles. She believed that Trip was also content and she wondered what thoughts might be crossing his mind.

"Lizzie would have liked her," he said in a quiet voice, as if to answer her unspoken question.

T'Pol thought that he might not have meant to speak out loud. Trip rarely spoke of his deceased sister, and never so casually. She suspected that even after more than a year, his pain was still too great. It was a grief that she now understood. "I believe that my mother would have found Sah'nelen to be pleasing as well," T'Pol replied.

"Do you miss her?" Trip gave her a sad smile.

Unexpressed mourning twisted in T'Pol's middle. "Our relationship was often complicated, but yes, I miss her." Her voice sounded small and vulnerable to her ears.

"I don't think that ever really goes away." Trip sighed, unconsciously drawing designs in the sand next to him. "I missed you too, you know."

T'Pol's brow furrowed in confusion. "I have not gone anywhere."

Trip frowned and opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it again. He repeated the action a few more times before he laid back on the blanket, muttering a soft curse that she was sure she was not meant to hear. Trip was conflicted, of that much she was certain. She didn't know what caused his turmoil, but her own niggling fears prevented her from asking for clarification. T'Pol did not want to find out that he might not desire a deeper relationship with her, regardless of their attraction to one another.

Trip's hands reached up and pulled her down to him, bringing her head to rest on his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart. The strength of their bond deepened with the contact and T'Pol was acutely aware of his fear singing steadily through their connection—fear of her rejection. She took in a sharp breath as sudden understanding eased her trepidation. He was worried that _she_ did not want to be with _him_. He worried that her interest in their relationship would be just as fleeting as she believed his might be. They had danced around each other needlessly, not knowing that they both had the same wish to share a more profound relationship. T'Pol's heart fluttered with growing exultation.

"I know snugglin' isn't very Vulcan," Trip said, interrupting her thoughts. "Do you mind humoring me for a bit?"

T'Pol frowned briefly at his words. "I am comfortable." She realized that if the bond had been as strong in that moment for him as it was for her, he would not have felt the need to ask for her permission. She felt disappointed that he was not privy to the same pleasing understanding that she had just experienced. "When did you miss me?" she asked, attempting to find a way to adequately calm his anxiety.

His chest rose and fell in a sigh. "After you married Koss, things were different between us—even our friendship. I tried real hard to be okay with it because I… because there was nothing I could do about it." He pulled her closer to him with a gentle squeeze. "Then you weren't married anymore, but you decided you didn't want me."

T'Pol opened her mouth to explain that she had never stopped desiring his companionship. "I—"

Trip placed a calloused finger on her lips. "Let me finish, darlin'. I know that your world was turned upside down all at once. You lost your mom. The Kir'Shara was discovered, changing everything for Vulcans—for you. I get that. I just wanted to be there for you the same way you helped me in the Expanse, but you didn't need me." His heart beat faster under her cheek. "It was selfish of me to transfer to the _Columbia_, but I just couldn't stand to be near you every day when you acted like we'd never been more than colleagues. It was a stupid, adolescent thing to do and I regret it." Trip grew quiet for a few breaths. "I'd never… You're the first…" He groaned. "You asked when I missed you? I missed you from the moment you married Koss 'til you kissed me in the corridor." He had both arms around her now. "I didn't just lose my… the gal I was… seein'. I lost my best friend."

Trip's honest admission settled over her, erasing the last of her apprehension. T'Pol was certain that there was much that he had left unsaid, but she did not feel compelled to press him further. She thought of her own hurt and confusion during that turbulent time. It had been a mistake to turn his friendship away then. "I missed you too," she confessed, draping her arm across his middle.

He kissed the top of her head. "I lo—I like having you back. I don't want things to change."

T'Pol tightened her embrace. "Neither do I, Trip."

Silence overtook them again and T'Pol felt more at peace than she had since… Had she ever felt this peaceful? She thought of her strange visit with an older T'Pol from another time line. The cryptic advice from the other woman finally made sense. Her heart now knew what it wanted.

Trip's breathing slowed and a quiet snore vibrated his chest. T'Pol smiled inwardly as she closed her eyes, allowing the melody of the ocean to lull her to sleep.

* * *

_**iii.**_

Soval stood in the doorway longer than necessary, staring at T'Pol and Commander Tucker as they slumbered in an intimate embrace. His suspicions regarding the couple had been confirmed. Whether or not he approved of the relationship was not important. It was illogical to intervene when they were obviously mated. Knowing both as he did, Soval doubted either would find any advisement against this foolish pairing to be welcome.

He stepped back into the corridor, letting the door give T'Pol and Commander Tucker their privacy once more. Soval felt some pity for the two as the path they had chosen would be rife with difficulty. He was confident, however, that they could adequately navigate any obstacle they might face.

After some contemplation, Soval decided that he would not be one of those obstructions.


	6. All In

_Disclaimer: See first chapter  
__Rating: PG-13_

_Special thanks again to my incredible betas, __**Honeybee **__& __**Dinah**__. There is an epilogue coming. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 6 - **_All In_

_**i.**_

Loud, booming music seemed to come from everywhere as Trip and his companions tried to navigate the dancing sea of scaly bodies. He was pretty sure his hair was standing completely on end with the electric charge that permeated the air. Trip liked a good party now and then, but this was ridiculous. When he was seventeen, he snuck off with his best friend to Mardi Gras, so he knew exactly how crazy people could get. And as nuts as that had been, teenagers on Bourbon Street definitely had nothing on the Xyrillians when it came to celebrating.

Sah'nelen, who yanked on his hand as they followed Trena'l and Ah'len, seemed to believe that Trip could actually walk through people. The tingling intensified each time he crashed into a party-goer. At first, he tried to apologize each time, but when no one seemed to hear or care, he stopped bothering with courtesy and focused, instead, on not getting lost in the madness.

Ahead, Ah'len turned around and said something that was lost in the din. Trip pushed his way closer and shouted, "What? I can't hear you!"

She pointed to a building on his right. "This is where we will prepare for the ceremony!"

He nodded and turned to find T'Pol and Soval, who weren't far behind. T'Pol walked as if she were completely unaware of the chaos happening around her. She didn't even register the Xyrillians who bumped into her. Soval, on the other hand, was not as graceful. Trip snickered at the older Vulcan's "I smell unpleasant fecal matter" expression. When the pair made it to him, Trip couldn't resist getting a little payback for the meeting in the captain's ready room.

"I'm glad you're enjoyin' yourself, Ambassador," he said as they entered the quiet building. "Is this what it's like when Vulcans let down their hair?"

Soval raised his brow in disapproval. "You can be reasonably certain, Commander Tucker, that if we Vulcans ever 'let down our hair' it would not be so tame."

Trip smirked. "I'd pay good money to see that."

"It is, perhaps, in your best interest that Vulcans would never allow such illogical behavior." Soval fixed him with a penetrating stare. "You would not survive the experience."

"Still," Trip replied with a wink, "it might be worth it."

The ambassador lifted his chin and walked past Trip into the room where Ah'len and Trena'l waited. T'Pol gave him a reproving look, and Trip shrugged. He knew that it was probably inappropriate to talk to Soval that way, but damn, Trip was having a great couple of days. With a huge grin, he remembered just how much T'Pol had to do with his recent happiness as he followed her through the doorway.

Inside, Ah'len directed them to take a seat on the plush chairs circling the center of the room. Sah'nelen climbed into Trip's lap as soon as he was settled, and he instinctively put his arms around her as she snuggled into his chest.

"Before we leave you to prepare," Ah'len said, drawing Trip's attention to her, "I would like to give you a general idea of what to expect with the ceremony as well as the parts we are inviting you to participate in."

Trip nodded for her to go on. When she began describing the seemingly simple ritual, he found his mind wondering. He thought about the little Xyrillian in his arms. He couldn't help but regret that as Sah'nelen grew, his time with her would be limited; they were worlds apart. To her, he would always be just one of the many adults who mentored her as she grew. Holding her tightly against his chest, Trip found himself starting to think about what it would be like to be a real _daddy_.

He glanced at T'Pol. She sat, paying rapt attention to Ah'len in her unfailingly Vulcan way. He wondered what families were like on her world. At what age did they embrace the ways of Surak and stop smiling? Would half-human/half-Vulcan children be the same? He smiled as the picture of a diminutive Vulcan girl popped into his mind. He imagined her, with T'Pol's coloring and ears, giving him the lifted Vulcan brow of death at some silly thing he might have said. Or maybe they would have little boy like Lorian, blond-haired and blue-eyed, who would have every appliance in pieces as he tried to figure out how they worked.

T'Pol turned to him with a question in her eyes, and Trip shook his head. _You're puttin' the cart before the horse, buddy._ He had to convince her that their relationship was a good bet before he could start thinking about making babies.

"Will that be acceptable?" Ah'len's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Trip blinked. "Sorry, I got a little distracted. What was that last part again?"

"After Sah'nelen is bestowed with her new name, to honor life and birth, the parents remove their robes and dance together."

"Wait, what?" Trip felt his cheeks burning. "You're saying that we all get _naked_ in front of _everybody and their brother_?" Trip closed his eyes. He was pretty damn sure that he could hear the cosmos snickering at him again.

"Is this a problem?" Ah'len asked, sounding honestly surprised.

"It's… Well, it's just…" Trip stammered, his face burning.

"Humans place high value on modesty," interjected Soval, and Trip threw the ambassador a grateful look. "They have a decided lack of propriety in nearly all other aspects of their culture, but public nudity is something they find disagreeable."

Trip rolled his eyes. _Leave it to the old Vulcan to find a way make a back-handed statement about humans._ "He's right—about the public nudity thing, anyway. We like to keep our clothes on around most folks."

"I had no idea," Ah'len replied. "If you would be uncomfortable, you don't have to disrobe. You are, after all, the first non-Xyrillian to father one of our young. We would never ask you to breach your cultural standards."

Trip blew out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, kindly."

"There is only one more important aspect of the ceremony that we need to discuss," Trena'l said.

Trip felt worry squeeze his throat. "What's that?" _Please God, don't let some kind of orgy be part of this thing._

"It is Sah'nelen's new name," Trena'l replied. "The father and mother each contribute a part of the name that has special meaning. Sah'nelen will be honored by having three to name her, a rarity for our people."

"Oh. So I gotta come up with part of her name?" He looked down at the girl who gave him a broad grin. "Right now?"

Ah'len tilted her head. "Not at this moment, necessarily. During the ritual the Great Mother will ask you to share your part of Sah'nelen's new name and to explain the meaning behind it. Will this be acceptable?"

"Yeah… I mean, yeah, I can do that." Trip bit the inside of his cheek. "I just wish I had a little more time to think of a name, you know?"

Trena'l nodded. "I understand. I should explain that each part of her name should be one syllable—no more than two. It is the way of our people."

"Okay. I can probably think of somethin'." Trip's cheeks flushed again. He was humbled by the opportunity to give Sah'nelen something so personal and permanent.

"Knowing your preference for modesty, we will leave you to get ready." Ah'len stood and held out silky robes of deep sapphire.

Trip took the garments, and Sah'nelen gave him a hard squeeze. She mumbled something into his uniform that he couldn't quite make out.

"What was that, darlin'?"

Sah'nelen lifted her head. "I'm so happy that you agreed to come, Trip."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, hon." They hugged again before Sah'nelen climbed down and left with her Xyrillian parents.

Trip turned back to his Vulcan companions and found them each with a brow raised. He was fairly certain that they were both amused, even Soval. Hell, Trip thought they'd probably been doing the Vulcan version of laughing on the inside since this whole fiasco began, but he was glad they'd come along—especially after that nice talk on the beach he'd had with T'Pol.

"Thanks for helping me out there, Ambassador," Trip said as he walked over to the pair.

"Gratitude is unnecessary. If I had not intervened, we might have been waiting for several hours more while you continued to stutter," Soval replied evenly.

Trip narrowed his eyes, not sure if the Vulcan was teasing or not. "That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

"Hardly." Soval lifted his brow. "This has been a fascinating experience, however. It was a wise decision to accompany you. I believe I will go see to our seats now." He gave Trip a nod. "Commander."

"See ya, Ambassador."

Soval turned to T'Pol. "Shall we?"

She glanced at Trip. "I will join you shortly, Ambassador."

The older Vulcan stared at the couple for a moment then left without a word.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Trip said when they were alone.

"Indeed," replied T'Pol. "It is, perhaps, regrettable that you will not be participating in the disrobing portion of the ritual."

Trip barked a laugh. "Did you just make a joke?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

He grinned. God, how this woman could give him all kinds of warm fuzzies—when she wanted to. Without thinking, he pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured into her hair. "There's nobody else I'd rather share this with."

T'Pol's arms slipped around his waist. "I am… gratified to be here, as well."

He kissed the top of her head and reluctantly let her go. "Sorry 'bout that display of human affection. Maybe one of these days you'll teach me how Vulcans do it—if they show affection in public, that is."

T'Pol's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Vulcan mates do, though it is limited."

"I figured as much." He shrugged. "I guess I oughta get changed. You're more than welcome to stick around, if you want." He gave her a mischievous grin.

"I believe I will join Ambassador Soval," she said, canting a brow.

"Suit yourself." Trip started to unzip his uniform. "You did say that you were disappointed that I wasn't gonna get naked durin' the ceremony." He waggled his eyebrows at her. It felt so good to be comfortable with her again.

"I believe the captain was correct in his description of you." The softness in her eyes belied the stern tone in her voice.

"Oh yeah? What'd he say about me?" Trip thought of any number of things Jon could have told T'Pol.

"That you are incorrigible."

He threw his head back and let out a throaty laugh that echoed off the high ceilings.

* * *

_**ii.**_

"Since the dawning of time, when Na'Sre'Tel'Fa'Drah'Leh, She Who Gives All Life, shaped our world and people into existence, we have celebrated all new life," the stooped, frail Great Mother intoned in a voice with surprising strength. "Each new child that draws breath is a blessing, a new soul that will only add to the diversity of our people. This day we come together to welcome another into the fold." The Great Mother's bracelets tinkled as she waved, signaling Sah'nelen to stand before her.

Trip, Ah'len and Trena'l stood in the center of a great arena to the right of the Great Mother. He was a little intimated by the number of Xyrillians in attendance and he self-consciously pulled his robe tighter. Across from Trip, there was a dais with seating reserved for close friends of the "naming party." He could see T'Pol and Soval watching the ceremony with their typical blank expressions. Trip smiled. He pictured them with white lab coats and clipboards, uttering a random "fascinating."

"Behold!" The Great Mother turned Sah'nelen to face the hushed crowd. Her young features were broadcast on the large screens surrounding the arena. "She, who once was known as Sah'nelen, shall now be given new birth into our society. She shall become one with Xyrillia!"

The Great Mother's words drew Trip's attention back to Sah'nelen. He still needed to think of his part of her new name. He thought of Lizzie's, but something held him back and he wasn't sure what it was. Even though it had been nearly two years since he'd lost her, Trip still got tied up knots. Maybe in time, it would get easier—but not yet.

"Let us all now raise our eyes to Na'Sre'Tel'Fa'Drah'Leh. Let us thank Her for this joyous occasion, for infusing our people with constant breath and joy." The wizened Xyrillian looked up and raised her hands above her head. "Let us ask Her for the wisdom to guide this child as she grows."

Trip raised his hands as the others did. As he waited for the protracted silence to end, he leaned toward Ah'len and whispered, "You guys do this with every kid?"

"Yes, though, not usually with such a large celebration in the arena," she whispered back.

Before Trip could ask another question, the Great Mother lowered her arms and spoke again. "We gather together in so great a number to honor the unusual circumstances of this child's beginnings. Na'Sre'Tel'Fa'Drah'Leh has given us a beautiful and unique gift. This young one carries with her not only the Xyrillian spirit, but that which comes from among the stars. If cultivated, she will give us a richness that we have not beheld among our people." She laid her hands on Sah'nelen's head. "All bow to this child who ushers in a new age for Xyrillia!"

As Trip obeyed, he wondered what this all meant for Sah'nelen. Would she become some kind of leader? He felt a little pride swell in his chest. She would do a good job, he was certain of it.

"Now it is time for her honored Mother and Fathers to give her the new name that will follow her as she journeys through life." The Great Mother nodded at Ah'len. "Her First Mother shall extend her gift."

Ah'len stepped forward and knelt before Sah'nelen. Her voice was broadcast throughout the arena as she spoke. "Daughter, I bequeath to you, as part of your name, Rah. It is to honor the first Great Mother of Xyrillia, who had a great capacity for compassion. She gave willingly to those in need and, in return, was loved by all." She took the girl's hand in hers. "May you be filled with love for all who cross your path."

Sah'nelen pressed her forehead against Ah'len's. "Thank you, Mother. I will hold your gift close for as long as I live."

Ah'len stepped back to Trip's side and he felt his pulse begin to race. He hadn't thought of his part of Sah'nelen's name yet, and he was afraid of messing this up for her. His mind scrambled to come up with something meaningful.

"The Second Father will now extend his gift."

Trip blew out a sigh of relief as Trena'l knelt before the girl. "Daughter," the Xyrillian commander said, "I bequeath to you, as part of your name, Fe. It is to honor the Great Mother of my foremother's time. She bore great wisdom and guided many on their paths in life." Taking Sah'nelen's hands in his, he continued, "May you take your experiences and learn from them, so that you may be a guiding star to others."

Sah'nelen repeated her gratitude to Trena'l.

"Now you will witness the dawning of a new era as the First Father, not of our kind, comes forward to bestow his otherworldly gift," the Great Mother announced.

Trip didn't think it was possible for the arena to become any quieter. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he walked up to Sah'nelen. She smiled at him as he knelt in front of her and, staring into her brilliant green eyes, he suddenly knew his part of her name.

"Daughter," he said with a voice shaken by nerves, "I, uh, bequeath to you, as part of your name, T'Les. It is to honor a great mother who tempered her deep passion with logic. She helped shape her world with her sacrifices." He gripped Sah'nelen's electric hands in his. "May you use logic to direct your passions." He leaned in and whispered, "May you accomplish great things, kiddo."

Sah'nelen touched his forehead with hers. "Thank you, First Father. I will carry your gift with me as long as I live." There was such tenderness and sincerity in her voice that Trip's eyes threatened with tears. He was going to miss her. He squeezed her hands one last time before he took his place with her other parents.

He mustered the courage to glance at T'Pol, suddenly worried that giving Sah'nelen her mother's name would offend her. She stared back at him with eyes slightly widened in surprise, but he sensed something else. Approval. He wasn't sure how, but he knew with absolute certainty she was pleased with his choice. Everything seemed to fall away as they looked at each other, like the rest of the universe froze in time. He abruptly became aware of sensations, warm and pleasant, that he knew weren't his. Was this the bond?

"All raise your hands to Na'Sre'Tel'Fa'Drah'Leh as this child is given rebirth!"

The Great Mother's words snapped Trip back to reality and the connection ended. He was disappointed for a moment, until he realized that there _had_ been a connection—which meant that there could be one again. He smiled as he raised his arms.

"Let the annals of time record that henceforth this child, the First Daughter of the new age, shall be known as Fe'Tles'Rah!" The Great Mother placed her hands on the girl's head again. "Fe'Tles'Rah, you are blessed with compassion, wisdom and logic. Cultivate your gifts so that you may take your place among the Noble Mothers." She turned to face the multitude. "We celebrate her rebirth!"

Deafening cheers rose from the stands, and Trip had to cover his ears. When tumult died down, he could hear the pounding of drums. His heart fluttered anxiously; he knew exactly what part of the ritual they had reached. Ah'len and Trena'l dropped their robes, and Trip tried to keep his eyes averted. He hoped that the dancing wouldn't last long.

Sah'nelen ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. _Not Sah'nelen_, he reminded himself. _Fe'Tles'Rah_. He kept his eyes on hers, ignoring her nudity—though it bothered him less than the adults.

"Will you join us in dancing, Trip?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the din. She looked up at him with such innocence and joy that Trip felt at war with himself. He wanted to make her happy, but his human sense of modesty was making him blush furiously.

_Oh, what the hell! _

"You bet, darlin'," he said as he undid the sash and threw off the robe. Did it really matter, anyway? The Xyrillians certainly didn't care, and Trip was pretty sure his two Vulcan companions weren't prone to gossiping. Ignoring the burning in his cheeks, he grabbed Fe'Tles'Rah's hands and twirled her around, making her trill with laughter.

It was on the second turn, when Trip glanced up, that he saw a shocked Jonathon Archer accompanied by an equally stunned Malcolm Reed.

_Son of a bitch!_

* * *

_**iii.**_

"That was quite the ceremony, Trip."

Jon didn't know what he'd been expecting when he arrived late to the festivities, but it was definitely not seeing his chief engineer prancing around in his birthday suit. Trip certainly had some kind of magnetic attraction to odd alien encounters. Jon shook his head. He didn't know whether to laugh or pity his friend. Probably both.

"Yeah, well," Trip replied, running his fingers through his hair, "I wasn't expectin' extra guests." He shot Malcolm a look that dared him to say anything before turning back to Jon. "I thought you said the admiral had you on a tight schedule."

"He does, which is why we're here," Jon replied. "The ambassador's needed back at Earth for a conference. Actually, President Samuels requested that we attend too. We need to be on our way as soon as possible. The Xyrillians have already transferred everyone's bags to the shuttlepod."

"A conference? My favorite." Trip grimaced. "I guess we'd better get the goodbyes over with." He motioned for the Xyrillians to join them. "You know Ah'len and Trena'l," he introduced the two adults. "This," he paused, draping his arm around the child, "is Fe'Tles'Rah, our daughter."

"Your daughter?" Malcolm asked. "Didn't you say—"

"She's definitely mine," Trip said, cutting him off. He looked down at Fe'Tles'Rah with such deep affection written on his face that Jon didn't doubt he meant it.

"Then let me offer my congratulations, Commander." Malcolm clapped Trip on the shoulder. "And my apologies for…before."

"Who are you?" Fe'Tles'Rah piped up in her tiny voice.

"You're right, darlin'," Trip said, "I'm being rude. These are my friends. This is Malcolm, and that's the Cap'n."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Malcolm held out his hand to the little girl.

She looked at it, then looked at Trip. "It's how my people say 'hello,'" he explained.

Fe'Tles'Rah held out her hand and Malcolm shook it briefly. She turned to Jon. "Hello, Cappen."

Jon smiled at her attempt to imitate Trip's accent. "Call me Jon. I'm glad we got to meet you."

"Me too," she replied, returning his grin. "Will you teach me some games?"

"Ah," Trip interjected, kneeling down to face her. "I'm afraid we can't, darlin'. It's time for us to go."

Fe'Tles'Rah showed the tiniest disappointment but she didn't protest. She wrapped her arms around Trip's neck and hugged him tightly. "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too, hon. We'll keep in touch."

Jon watched the scene as Trip said his farewells to the Xyrillians. In some ways he wasn't surprised that Trip had become enamored with Fe'Tles'Rah in so short a time. His friend had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Jon was just glad that, despite the naked dancing, the trip had turned out not to be a complete fiasco. It was about time that Trip caught a break on an away mission.

"I'd better get back into uniform," Trip said after the Xyrillians left.

Jon nodded. "Make it quick. We'll be at the docking port."

"Captain." T'Pol didn't move when the rest of the group did. "If I may, I would prefer to accompany Commander Tucker."

Jon raised his brows and saw an indecipherable look cross Soval's features. Yes, there was no doubt something was going on between Trip and T'Pol, and the ambassador knew it too.

Jon gave her a curt nod and began walking again as he mulled over the situation.

Maybe after the conference he would sit the two of them down and find out, once and for all, just how serious their relationship was. Then the three of them would figure out how to make this work—after all, Starfleet didn't have any hard and fast rules about fraternization…yet. He wasn't about to lose his two best officers, and closest friends, because they had gotten moony-eyed. Jon smirked. Well, Trip was anyway. T'Pol was… T'Pol was tolerating Trip on a new level.

Jon sighed. Navigating this new territory was going to be tricky, and he was pretty sure that he had months of headaches ahead of him.

But then, Trip never did make things easy, did he? Neither did T'Pol.

* * *

_**iv.**_

T'Pol waited patiently as Trip changed in the other room. He had been uncharacteristically quiet as they walked to the building. She sensed that he regretted having to leave Fe'Tles'Rah sooner than expected. T'Pol found his quick attachment to the child, though not logical, pleasing nonetheless.

Fe'Tles'Rah.

T'Pol had been surprised when Trip announced her mother's name as his gift to the child. He could have chosen to honor his sister and yet, he had paid tribute to T'Les instead. His unexpected decision had caused both grief and pride to war beneath T'Pol's Vulcan mask. That he had seen her mother in this positive light—despite her having forced T'Pol's marriage to Koss—showed T'Pol the depth of his ability to forgive and accept. Could he also so fully forgive T'Pol for the wrongs she had committed against him?

After he bequeathed his gift, the moment had been enhanced when he'd looked at her. She had felt their bond abruptly stir to life. The connection had been unmistakable, and she was pleased that he was aware of it as well. It would not always be one-sided, she realized. She only needed to discover how to cultivate it.

"I'm all set," Trip said as he joined her. Though he was in uniform again, his hair still stuck out at odd angles. T'Pol refrained from reaching out and attempting to tame the errant blond locks. "Are we alone?" he asked as he took a cursory glance at the foyer.

"I believe so."

"Really alone?" he asked again. There was something in his voice that summoned the familiar tingling in her middle.

"Yes."

He smiled. "Good."

T'Pol felt his intention through the bond, and she expectantly closed her eyes. When his cool lips touched hers, it was not the tender kiss that he had given her the day before, but something deeper, hungrier. As he pulled her body against his, she found herself wishing that they were already on board the _Enterprise,_ and in her quarters. After several breaths, he pulled back, and she felt his reluctance at ending the kiss. Or was it hers reluctance?

"I needed that," he said as he gave her a gentle hug before letting go. "We'd better get going."

She nodded and followed him to the door. She paused as an idea occurred to her. "Trip, wait."

He turned to her with a questioning look in his eyes, even as he grinned. She knew it pleased him when she used his nickname, and at this moment, pleasing him pleased her.

"Hold out your right hand," she commanded. She quelled the fluttery anticipation that surged as he obeyed her without question. She gently bent all but his fore and middle fingers. "This is how Vuclan bondmates show public affection," she explained. She held up her fingers and hesitated, remembering how disagreeable the display had been previously with Koss. Suppressing her illogical fear, she touched her fingertips to Trip's.

His eyes widened with the contact and T'Pol wondered if he felt the depth of her affection for him, just as she felt his. She hoped he did. She hoped that all of his trepidation regarding her commitment to him would finally dissipate.

"I could get used to this," he said with awe.

"Indeed."

He looked at her and smiled. "Bondmates, huh?"

"Yes."

"And we can do this out there?" he asked, waving his free hand toward the door. T'Pol nodded. "Well in that case, let's head on out."

As they left the building, T'Pol was aware that he still had many questions for her—questions that she would willingly answer—but for now, they were late meeting the captain. They had time yet to discover what awaited them in their new future together.

And there _was_ a future for them. T'Pol was now certain of it.


	7. Epilogue: From the Ashes

_Disclaimer: See first chapter  
__Rating: PG-13 for language and sensuality_

_Some dialogue used from "Terra Prime," written by Judith & Garfield Reeves-Stevens and Many Coto._

_And a final thank you to my stalwart betas, __**Honeybee**__ & __**Dinah**__!_

_

* * *

_**Epilogue—**_From the Ashes_

_**i.**_

Less than month after meeting his Xyrillian daughter, the universe had given Trip another surprise child—a second little girl. He had been given a new chance to embrace fatherhood. Only, the universe didn't giggle this time. Instead, Trip believed that the stars wept with him over the unbearable cruelty of little Elizabeth's short life.

Trip had gone to Earth and stood stoically while Jon had rallied the delegates. He had kept his face straight, despite the hollowness that threatened to cripple him. He didn't shed one tear even though it had been only a few short hours since his little girl had died in his arms—his and T'Pol's arms. Two Elizabeths had left this universe, two blond-haired, blue-eyed girls that had been his and had slipped away.

After the speech, he had kept his composure while the delegates visited with him one by one, expressing condolences and a desire to attend his baby's funeral. He couldn't recall what he had said in response. He only remembered that T'Pol had disappeared. Trip hadn't blamed her. He had wanted to disappear too.

Phlox had stopped him when he came back to the ship. Trip had listened numbly as the doctor explained that there had been an error in the cloning process. Without that error, Elizabeth would have survived. She would have lived. _She would have lived._ That was the only thought in his mind as Phlox suggested that a Vulcan and a human could have a child without problem. _**Elizabeth would have lived.**_ Trip could have been a father to his surprise daughter. T'Pol could have been a mother.

They could have been a family.

The ache that he'd been pretending not to feel suddenly took his breath away. He thanked Phlox hurriedly and walked away. He needed… He didn't know what he needed. Trip walked the corridors in a daze trying to make sense of this horrible nightmare. He supposed that he meant to go to his quarters where he could collapse and grieve in private, away from the sad expressions from his friends who could not truly understand the pain he suffered now. None of them knew what it was like. None of them had lost a sister or daughter.

At some point, he realized that his feet had stopped moving. He brought his eyes up and found himself standing in front of T'Pol's door. _Of course_, he thought, _she would understand_. His entire soul longed to be with her, to share this crushing disappointment and emptiness. He pressed the button and heard her answer a heartbeat later.

The room was dark and she looked so small and fragile in her voluminous robes. He saw in her hand the IDIC symbol that she had hung at Elizabeth's bed. Tears filled his eyes as grief overwhelmed him.

"The delegates at the conference," he said, not knowing the right words for this moment, "they've asked about the service for…" He broke off, pulling at his uniform as agony stole air from his lungs. "For Elizabeth. They want to attend."

T'Pol didn't look up. "She was important."

"There's something else." He walked toward her, needing to be close to her. "I spoke with Phlox," he said as he sat beside her. "Turns out there was a flaw in the technique that Paxton's doctors used in the cloning process." T'Pol turned to him with searching eyes. "Human DNA and Vulcan DNA—Phlox says there's no medical reason why they can't combine." The tears began rolling down his cheeks again. "So if a Vulcan and a human ever decided to have a child," he said, pausing to find his breath again, "it'd probably be okay. That's sort of comforting."

_We can still be a family._

T'Pol said nothing, but instead she took his hand in hers and together they held the IDIC. The last of his composure broke with that contact and sobs racked his body. Trip didn't know how long he wept, holding her delicate hand, but near the end he realized that he wasn't just expressing his pain alone, but hers as well. He had been crying the tears that she could not, and, in a strange way, he loved her more for letting him help her grieve.

She leaned into him and Trip let go of her hand to circle his arms around her. It felt right to hold her like this, even in the midst of their anguish. This was home. No matter what the universe threw at them, they were meant to survive it together.

The image of Fe'Tles'Rah came unbidden to his mind and Trip realized that the universe wasn't always cruel. He thought of playing with his Xyrillian daughter in the holo-room, showing her human games. He thought of T'Pol watching them and the contentment he felt, sharing that moment with them both. Not all surprises were bad, he realized. The universe wasn't their enemy.

"We're gonna be all right, somehow," Trip whispered. Beneath the ache, in the depths of his heart, he knew what he spoke was true. They would find a way.

T'Pol looked up at him, question plain in her stricken features. He wasn't sure if he could explain how he was certain that they would get past this—that they would find happiness again. So instead, he kissed her. Something inside of him burned when his lips touched hers, something hungry and desperate. He tried not to let it overwhelm him but the need was too great. T'Pol didn't resist as he pulled her closer, feeling an urgency to envelop her completely. It was primal, physical, and alive.

They needed to love and be loved.

* * *

_**ii.**_

T'Pol woke with an arm draped across her middle and a leg across her thigh. She was momentarily disoriented until the memories of the previous night came rushing back to her.

_Do you think Elizabeth would never want us to be happy again? Or Lizzie? Or T'Les?_

Trip had said those words when she had shrunk with shame after giving into her baser urges. Vulcans did not grieve with physical intimacy. Humans sometimes did, he had explained gently before drifting off to sleep. She had lain next to him, pondering his question. Clarity didn't come instantly, but in measured doses T'Pol began to understand what he had meant. They had not dishonored the memory of their daughter by finding a portion of peace in each other. Elizabeth would not have wanted her parents to live in pain and grief indefinitely.

As Trip snored softly beside her, T'Pol marveled that he had managed to find logic in the chaos of their suffering rather than she. Was it because he was human and could allow his emotions to wash over him and recede like a tide? Would she ever comprehend this surprising man? So many conflicting emotions swirled within and she needed to examine them before they overtook her.

T'Pol attempted to extricate herself from the warm body next to her but as soon as she moved, Trip's arm tightened around her waist.

"Where're you goin'?" he slurred in a voice thick with sleep.

"I must meditate."

Trip yawned and propped himself up on one elbow, keeping his hold on her. She twisted to meet his gaze and found sadness lingering in his eyes, even as he smiled down at her.

"Mornin'," he said as another yawn cracked his jaw.

"Good morning."

"You okay?" he asked.

T'Pol opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine, but she couldn't say the words. She was not fine—not yet. "I rested adequately," she answered.

"Yeah, I'm not really okay either." A multitude of expressions passed over his face, and he looked as if he were trying to decide something. "Marry me—_officially_ marry me."

T'Pol raised a brow, stunned by the unexpected proposal.

"Now before you go on and tell me that it's not the right time or try to throw some logic at me, just hear me out." When she didn't respond, he continued. "I've lost my baby sister and now I've lost my…" He paused as his eyes brimmed with tears. "I lost my little girl before I even got to be a real daddy to her. I'm so sick and tired of losing people that I love. I can't lose you too." He brushed her hair away from her forehead. "I love you, T'Pol. I've loved you for a long time. I know that you're Vulcan—that you can't be like a human wife. But I don't want a damn human wife. I want _you,_ T'Pol,Vulcan ways an' all."

"Starfleet—" she started to say when he interrupted.

"Starfleet can go to hell. They've taken enough already. This is my life—_our_ life—and they don't get to have a say in it." He searched her face, as if trying to make her understand that this was no whim. "T'Pol, you are the only woman I am ever gonna want to be with. Marry me, darlin'. Let's make somethin' good come out of all this tragedy."

His love mingled with her grief was almost too much for T'Pol, but she could not think of a sound argument against what he was asking of her. She reciprocated his deep affection. She did not want to be with anyone else either. He had given her more serenity than she had ever experienced. In the few heartbeats that it took to ponder his offer, T'Pol knew that life without Trip would be unacceptable.

"I will marry you." Saying the words did not lessen the hurt and anguish, but another brighter, more hopeful sensation swelled within until it warmed her being.

A tear escaped Trip's eye as his mouth stretched into an exuberant smile. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. T'Pol felt an unwavering certainty in this moment that he had, indeed, been correct the previous night.

They were going to be all right, somehow.

**~FIN~**


End file.
